The Loneliness of Office

The Loneliness of Office

Old Campaigner Richard Nixon confidently believes, against the polls, that elections are won or lost on the strength of a candidate's final-week impression on the voters. In the final week, following these ground rules, the Republicans went all out. There was Dwight D. Eisenhower deriding Jack Kennedy without naming him ("this young genius"), endorsing

Dick Nixon and Cabot Lodge in clarion terms ("For me, drawing on a lifetime of experience with men who want to lead and men who can lead, there is no question . . ."), and warning in a powerful last-minute offensive that a Democratic victory would mean inflation, high prices and cheap dollars. And there was Nixon himself, all but crowded out of a half-hour, coast-to-coast telecast by the prolonged reception for Ike's Manhattan speech, grinning widely and shouting: "I'm always glad to give up my time to the President of the United States."

Riding a Tide. Nixon made up for lost TV time as he pushed his rejuvenated campaign through New Jersey, Pennsylvania, New York, South Carolina, Texas,

Wyoming, Washington. California, the Midwest and Alaska--not with too much hope of winning Alaska's three electoral votes, but to keep his acceptance-speech promise to campaign in all 50 states. In Wyoming, to keep this promise, the pilot of his chartered Boeing 707 had to land in a snowstorm. Nixon, buoyed by Ike's support, told-his audiences that he felt a "tide"' running in his direction, promised "one of the greatest victories in terms of electoral votes in the history of America.'' Increasing the cutting edge of his adjectives, he punched hard at Kennedy as a "medicine man" and "Jumping Jack," accusing him of making "vicious statements" and telling a "barefaced lie," and warning that as President. Kennedy would be a "captive" of United Auto Workers President Walter Reuther.

But the week's Republican honors easily belonged to Ike. His speeches were more politically potent than any he had ever made on his own behalf. Besides, he was obviously stung by Kennedy's accusations that his had been a standstill Administration in which U.S. power and prestige had declined. In Pittsburgh, obviously intending his remarks to show that Kennedy was not big enough for the presidency, Eisenhower, in a reminiscent mood, told a G.O.P. audience of the terrible loneliness of decision in the White House, in words that had a beyond-the-battle feeling about the office. On Dday, he related, he had to decide whether to send two paratroop divisions into battle in a sector where a senior adviser predicted 90% casualties. He eventually decided that the paratroops had to be committed to combat, and ''for years thereafter," he said, "I felt that only once in a lifetime could a problem of that sort weigh as heavily on a man's mind and heart.

"My fellow Americans, now I know that in this age the President encounters equally soul-racking problems many times in a single term of office."

Alone in the Smoke. "Not the fate of two divisions or even of an entire landing force, but the fate of millions of Americans--young and old, military and civilian, city dwellers and farm families--the fate of the public itself might depend on his decision.

"When the push of a button may mean obliteration of countless humans, the President of the United States must be forever on guard against any inclination on his part to impetuosity, to arrogance, to headlong action, to expediency, to facile maneuvers, even to the popularity of an action as opposed to the rightness of an action . . .

"The nakedness of the battlefield, when the soldier is all alone in the smoke and the clamor and the terror of war, is comparable to the loneliness--at times--of the presidency, when one man must conscientiously, deliberately, prayerfully scrutinize every argument, every proposal, every prediction, every alternative, every probable outcome of his action, and then --all alone--make his decision."

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